


to the victor

by rosecake



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Getting Together, Magic Lessons, StepQueen, True Love's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-07 12:26:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19209415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosecake/pseuds/rosecake
Summary: Drizella thought casting the curse would bring her what she wanted.  Now she's not so sure.





	to the victor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shopfront](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shopfront/gifts).



At first the curse felt like a dream she couldn’t wake up from.

Her name was Drizella Tremaine, she remembered that, and the whole life that went along with the name. All the sorrows and all the joys and all of her accomplishments and failures. She remembered watching her family shatter like a glass dropped from a great height, powerless to stop it, until she’d realized that she didn’t have to stay powerless. Her name was Drizella, and she was born with magic in her heart.

At the same time, she remembered being someone else entirely. Ivy Belfrey, poor Ivy, who’d spent so many years trying and failing to win her mother’s approval. Right out of high school she’d set off for one of the finest colleges across the country and poured her heart into her courses, only to end up right back where she’d started in Hyperion Heights just as soon as she’d graduated. As her mother’s secretary.

It wasn’t the life she would have chosen for herself, but unfortunately the curse didn’t allow for much choice. She still had her memories, though, and access to Gothel. No magic, not yet, but they’d figure that out soon enough.

In the meantime she had other things to keep her busy. The land without magic had turned to technology to fill its needs, and sometimes as Ivy scrolled through her phone she thought technology might be the better choice. She could have spent a lifetime in the old world casting different charms on a hunk of metal and glass and by the time she died it still wouldn’t have been able to do half as many things as her phone.

But everyone in this world had a phone. Ivy’d had one ever since she was a little girl, back when they were still the ugly flip-phones that could only make calls and send texts. Sure, the ability to hear another’s voice from any point in the kingdom was something anyone would have paid dearly for in the Enchanted Forest, but Ivy didn’t feel powerful when she used her phone. She didn’t feel it when she watched television, or when she drove her car.

Power was something she only felt when she used _magic_. With magic she could pull a person’s heart out and feel it pulsing in her hand. With magic she’d managed to change the whole world, not just for herself but for everyone around her. That was real power, and nothing in this new world came close to matching the feeling of it.

When she’d cast the curse, she hadn’t realized just how badly she’d missed it. How badly it would claw at her to have to wait patiently and pretend not to know anything about it.

For a while it was entertaining watching old enemies walk around dazed, memories gone, and know that she was the one who’d managed to put them in such a state. For a short while, and then it turned frustrating, having to interact every day with people she knew who didn’t really know her. Ella and Lucy and Tiana and all the rest of them, all somehow even duller here than they’d been in the Enchanted Forest.

There was only one person who might know how she felt, who might be able to commiserate with her. But Regina was long gone, asleep like the rest of them, and she probably wouldn’t be inclined to help Drizella even if she were awake.

That, and to her annoyance, Drizella wasn’t even entirely sure where she was.

Her mother was still her mother, and now also her boss, so that had been easy enough to figure out. Anastasia was asleep in her hospital bed. Cinderella was still family, too, and her daughter as well, and Ivy had plenty of memories of her in this world. And Tiana was still her constant companion, even if they were both broke now. Henry Mills was a moderately successful author, and even though he wasn’t in the neighborhood she was sure the curse would draw him in sooner or later. The Crocodile was a cop, one who spent far more time scheming with her mother than she was comfortable with, and she saw Hook’s daughter wandering around on the streets from time to time.

But months went by and she still couldn’t find any sign of Regina.

Hyperion Heights was a close-knit neighborhood, mostly thanks to the curse’s influence, but Seattle had hundreds of thousands of people living in it. Only a mid-sized city by this world’s standards, and yet it was still bigger than any kingdom she’d ever heard of back in the Enchanted Forest. Finding a single person was like finding a needle in a haystack, and with no magic and no name to search by Drizella was at a loss.

She had nothing to rely on but chance, and luckily for her, chance eventually came through. Ivy had a dozen different social media accounts, because that was how you got attention in this world. And, fortunately, so did Jacinda. Her mother had tasked Ivy with keeping an eye on her step-sister, but Drizella was nosy by nature, and she would have stalked her Facebook and Instagram accounts anyway.

So it wasn’t the first time she’d gone through Jacinda’s photos and it wouldn’t be the last. She was scrolling, fast and bored, fast enough that she nearly skimmed right past the photo of Jacinda and Tiana with their favorite bartender.

It was two in the afternoon on a Thursday, but one of the benefits of working for family was that nobody really expected her to stick around for the full nine-to-five. She followed the map a few blocks, down a street she’d walked down a hundred times until she reached the bar that she’d never once noticed.

At first she thought she must have the wrong place. A dive bar called _Roni’s_ didn’t exactly scream Evil Queen. It didn’t even come close to matching the staid and subdued persona she’d taken on as the mayor of Storybrooke. But the curse did that, after all. It changed people into something completely new.

Drizella walked in and knew immediately that she was in the right place, because there was Regina, smiling at her. She realized her mistake immediately; she should have come later, closer to happy hour, when she wouldn’t have been the only person in the bar.

“Hi,” said Regina. Well, Roni. Regina wouldn’t have been smiling at her. “Can I get you anything?”

Did she want anything? Drizella wasn’t sure. All of a sudden she felt exposed. She hadn’t really thought about what it would be like, seeing Regina again after so much had passed between them. “No thanks,” she said. “I think I’m good.”

And then she left.

\- - -

“Close your eyes,” said Regina, and Drizella did as instructed.

She stood there, unseeing, as Regina reached for her hand and placed it over her heart. “Can you feel it?”

She could feel the silk of Regina’s top beneath her fingers, and the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest, but she knew that wasn’t what Regina meant. She exhaled, trying to concentrate, and then beneath the surface sensations she felt something else. A deep throbbing, strong and powerful. Regina’s heartbeat. “Yes,” she said. She could feel it beating, the vibrations so close to the surface, so close she could just reach in and—

Regina placed her hand over Drizella’s heart, so that they were standing in mirrored poses, and the touch jolted Drizella’s concentration. Her bodice was cut low, and Regina’s splayed fingers rested partly on the cloth and partly on Drizella’s bare skin.

She wondered if Regina could feel her heart beat faster at the touch. But if Regina noticed anything amiss, she didn’t let it show on her expression, and Drizella sighed and tried to force herself to concentrate properly again. It took a second before she could feel Regina’s heart again, just beneath the surface, so close that the cloth and skin and ribs between her fingers and the muscle meant nothing. She could pull it right out if she wanted, nothing could stop her. And nothing could stop Regina, standing in the same pose, from taking whatever she wanted out of Drizella. For a dizzying second Drizella wasn’t sure which thing she wanted more, take or be taken.

And then Regina stepped back and the current between them broke, leaving Drizella feeling distressingly normal again.

“You aren’t going to let me try it for real?” She asked, hoping her tone was appropriately light and teasing. It wouldn’t end well, probably, if Regina knew just how badly she wanted to feel that muscle throbbing in her palm.

“Oh, no. Of course not. You don’t take someone’s heart out unless you really mean it.”

Drizella thought that really Regina was still a little suspicious of her. But if she were stupid she wouldn’t be much use as a magic teacher, so a little mistrust seemed inevitable.

“That’s close enough that you’ll know how to do it if you have to,” continued Regina. “In the past, I mostly used it as a means of control,” she said, her voice turning dark for a moment as she looked away. “But it’s a good skill to have. Taking someone’s heart out is sometimes necessary to heal them, or at least preserve them until a solution can be found.”

Drizella didn’t think she would be using the skill for healing much, but that was fine. It didn’t matter _why_ Regina was teaching her magic, or what goals she had mind for her. All that mattered was that that she did teach her. Once Drizella was strong enough she’d be able to use those skills however she pleased.

“Most things that can be used to hurt can also be used to heal,” she said. Regina had told her something similar, back when they’d first started, and Drizella liked to parrot it back from time to time. Regina would teach her all sorts of things if Drizella could convince her that she’d use those powers for good.

“Yes,” said Regina. “And vice versa. Love, for example, can inspire people to be better, or it can drive them to cruelty. Intent matters quite a bit when it comes to magic.”

“And hate?” Drizella asked. Perhaps she should have kept that question to herself, especially when Regina shot her such a sharp look, but after all, she had great deal more experience with hate than love. And she couldn’t fuel her magic with something she didn’t have. But she’d need to phrase it in a way Regina would accept. “After all, if you can use love to hurt people, then maybe-“

“Hate never leads to anything good,” said Regina. “For you or anyone else.”

\- - -

“You ready for a drink this time?” asked Regina, and Drizella felt her face flush slightly. She sounded friendly enough, but Drizella still would have preferred if it if she’d forgotten about her abrupt departure the last time she’d stopped by.

“Sure,” said Drizella, sliding up to the bar. The wood was chipped in places, and she put her purse on the bar stool next to her. She didn’t want to get splinters in the leather. “Give me—“ she said, unsure of what to order. Ivy mostly drank rosé and craft beers and fancy specialty cocktails and a bunch of other things she was pretty sure a place like this wouldn’t have. “Give me a house special,” she said, smiling. “Whatever you think I’ll like.”

“I’ve got just the thing,” said Regina, winking at her, and there, that looked familiar. That confidence that she could look at Drizella and read just what kind of person she was, figure out just what she wanted.

“So what’s your name?” asked Roni, reaching for a bottle up on a high shelf. She was wearing a cut up tank top with a band logo, so frayed and torn up that Drizella couldn’t make out what band it was supposed to be. Or maybe it was just that Ivy had never been into the right kind of music to recognize it. She didn’t look like the curse had pulled her from the Enchanted Forest. She looked like it had pulled her from a rock concert from before Ivy was born.

“Ivy,” she said, and then immediately regretted it. She didn’t know if Roni would recognize the name Ivy Belfrey, that wicked step-sister that Jacinda surely complained about all the time.

At least she hadn’t slipped up and given the name Drizella. Ivy was common enough, but nobody in Seattle called their kid Drizella.

“That’s a pretty name,” she said, smiling, and Drizella was certain she would have said the same thing no matter what name she’d given. Just a bartender chatting up the only patron in the place. “Try this,” she said, sliding over a drink, something amber.

Drizella tried it, and she could taste lemon and honey, and something that might be whiskey. Maybe bourbon. She wasn’t sure. Her palate wasn’t that refined, not when it came to liquor. It all sort of burned the same going down. “It’s fine,” she said. She pushed it back along the bar. “But maybe something sweeter?”

Roni looked slightly taken aback for an instant, but she slipped back to a smile before turning to her liquor shelves. “Sure thing,” she said, the unspoken sarcastic _the customer is always right_ left unsaid. “You just didn’t strike me as the sweet type.”

Drizella smiled. Roni was a little sharp when she spoke, and she liked it. She leaned forward as Roni handed her a new drink. This one burned her throat like it was stronger, and it left her mouth tasting like cherries. “Closer,” she said, licking her lips. She swirled it around and took another sip, just enough to feel the liquor burn. “Not quite right, though,” she said, sliding the glass back.

Roni raised an eyebrow at her. “You want me to try again?” she asked, and Drizella nodded. “You do know I’m charging you for all these, right?”

“Sure,” said Drizella. Money didn’t really matter to her. She had more disposable income than she knew what to do with. “You want me to open a tab?”

“No,” said Roni, “I trust you’re good for it.”

She handed over a third cocktail, and Drizella could smell crushed mint before she even opened her mouth. It wasn’t so much sweet as it was cloying, her least favorite of everything Roni had tried.

Well, no witch ever took taste into account when making potions, except maybe the witches that liked to trap children. After her first sip Drizella swallowed, draining half the glass in one go. It was getting late in the afternoon, and soon people would be showing for up for happy hour. She wanted to be gone by then, and at least a little buzzed for her troubles.

“Perfect,” she said, biting into the cherry garnish to help smother the overpowering taste of mint. “Why don’t you make me another one?”

\- - -

The flower Regina placed in her hand was pale purple, with thin, delicate looking petals. “Cup it in your hands,” said Regina, gesturing with her own hands even though Drizella already knew full well what she meant, “and think of something you love.”

Drizella’s thoughts went to her family automatically, even though there was no love to be found there, and she had to swallow down a surge of bitterness in her throat. Regina hadn’t said to think of a person, anyway, she’d said to think of a thing.

She closed her eyes and concentrated. She thought about apple cider, about the smell of stone after a spring rain, of freshly baked bread straight from the oven. She thought about warm furs and the softest, finest silks in her wardrobe. She thought of the distant past, of when she was a very young child, and tried to hold onto those distant, faded memories of happiness, and no matter what what she called to mind the flower did nothing. If the magic were working, it should float, but the flower simply sat in her hand like a rock, the tissue-thin petals not so much as fluttering with the breeze.

“Concentrate,” said Regina, mildly, and even though there was nothing particularly chiding in her tone Drizella still couldn’t stop her jaw from tightening.

She tightened her fist, crushing the flower before letting it fall to the forest floor.

“Hey,” said Regina sharply. Now she was irritated. “Those aren’t exactly easy to find in this world.”

Drizella shrugged. “Lucky for you, then, that you travel so often,” she said. “I want to try something different.”

Love, light, hope - those were the only things Regina ever talked about. Sometimes it was hard to imagine how she’d ended up the Evil Queen. If Drizella hadn’t had her hand so close to Regina’s heart she might even accuse her of being a liar. She’d felt it, though, that strain of darkness running through her heart, pulsing at her core, a part of her even as much as Regina would like to deny it.

Drizella wished she would share it, but she’d given up on prying the darkness out of Regina for the time being. What she wanted to know about curses and revenge she’d have to come at sideways. She was so sick of pretending to be soft and kind-hearted though. If that was what it took to convince Regina she could be responsible with magic and power, so be it, but she was itching for the chance to try something new.

“What about lust?” she asked. That wasn’t evil, now, was it? Not evil, but not sickeningly sweet either. “That can power magic just as well as love, can’t it?”

Regina’s eyes went wide for a moment, and there was a thrill at seeing her startled, even if only for a moment. She usually seemed so in control of herself, of her surroundings. It was one of the things Drizella envied about her.

“That can be dangerous,” said Regina. She leaned in a little as she spoke, and her gaze was even and penetrating, as if she uncover Drizella’s thoughts just by looking at her. “It can sweep people way before they’ve even realized it.”

Not a no, then. “I’m not afraid of dangerous,” said Drizella, leaning in just as far as Regina had.

Regina reached out, resting hand on her chest, right over her heart. And it wasn’t meant to be sexual, not exactly, Drizella understood that, but she couldn’t help react like it was. Her pulse quickened, and she could hear her own heart beating loudly in her ears.

“Your heart makes it seem as if you’re afraid,” said Regina.

“I’m not afraid,” said Drizella. And maybe it wasn’t quite true - she didn’t have enough experience to be confident. But sex was a little bit like magic in that way, wasn’t it? Powerful. But you couldn’t get experience if you were too afraid to ever try. “I’m excited.”

“Well, then,” said Regina, her lips brushing across Drizella’s neck as her hands slid around her waist, “let’s see what I can teach you.”

\- - -

The days passed like molasses, slow and suffocating. If she’d known it would be like this when she’d case the curse - well, she still would have done it. Her goals hadn’t changed. But maybe she would have taken things slower, tried harder to figure out how to control the end result a little better. Too many people were still asleep. She wanted them awake, wanted them to realize just how miserable they were. She wanted to gloat. Or at least be _remembered_.

Instead nothing ever seemed to change no matter how hard she pressed.

She swung her legs beneath the barstool, impatient with how long it was taking to get Roni’s attention. She’d come too late, and it was busier than she liked it. Really, she liked the bar best when it was early afternoon on a random weekday, because it was usually empty then. And an otherwise empty bar meant that she had Roni’s full attention.

Now it was crowded, busier than usual even though it was still a weekday. Some kind of retirement celebration, probably, judging by what little she’d picked up from the guys trying to make small talk with her. She ignored them as best she could, and eventually they started ignoring her in return, but it still made her miss having magic. She’d gotten quite good at transformation spells towards the end. They all would have made good frogs.

Roni slid over her drink with a smile, but then she was gone again, pouring pints for other customers and leaving Drizella to sulk on her lonely end of the bar.

It was a stupid way to feel. In this world Roni had a job, and that job involved paying attention to other people. Drizella had nobody to blame for that but herself; it had been her curse, after all. Still, it hurt, and even worse than that, the feeling was useless. Back in Enchanted Forest she could take the loneliness and resentment and really _use_ it - turn it into something powerful, something that could re-write the whole world.

But she was in a land without magic now, so she had to swallow it down along with the cloying mint in her drink.

She was just about to leave when her evening got worse. “Ivy?” Drizella turned to see Jacinda staring at her, Sabine by her side, both of them looking shocked to see her. “What are you doing here?” asked Jacinda. Ah, right. That was one of the reasons she didn’t like to stay late. This was Jacinda’s bar, and she’d known Roni a lot longer than Drizella had. It wasn’t hard to guess which sister Roni was going to side with if it came to that. “What?” she asked. “You think I still have a curfew? That mother doesn’t let me out at night?”

Sabine looked like she wanted to say something not particularly nice, but Jacidna took a step back. “It’s fine,” she said, just as timid as ever. She never wanted do anything that might make Ivy or Victoria mad. “I just - this just doesn’t seem like your kind of place, you know?”

“How would you know what kind of place I like?” Drizella asked. “It’s not like we’re friends.”

“Yeah, sorry,” said Jacinda, taking another step back. She took Sabine by the wrist, and Drizella felt a wave of resentment. Cinderella still managed to have friends here, in spite of the curse, even though Drizella was alone. “It’s fine. We’ll go someplace else.”

There was movement behind her, and of course Roni decided this was the moment she was going to pay attention. Not to Drizella, not really, but Jacinda and Sabine, sure. Drizella was a customer, they were friends. “Why would you leave?” she asked, clearly having missed the first part of the conversation. “You just got here.”

Roni looked at Jacinda and saw the hesitation on her face, and then looked back at Drizella. She looked confused, and all of a sudden Drizella really didn’t want to deal with any of it. Didn’t want to have to explain herself.

“Don’t worry,” she said, downing the rest of her drink in one gulp, nearly choking on it. She’d underestimated how much of it was left. “I was leaving anyway.”

She walked out the door without waiting for an answer. Nobody tried to stop her.

\- - -

The power of the curse surged through her, electrifying and terrifying all at once. It wasn’t her powers, or not just hers, not really - it was Regina’s and Victoria’s and Gothel’s, flowing through her like a conduit, and it was all she could to control it. She was controlling it, though. She could feel it curving to her will, following the design she’d built for it. Breaking through the walls of creation to create a new role just the way she wanted it.

“You don’t have to do this!” cried Regina. She sounded distant. For the first time Drizella had known her she sounded weak, powerless.

It felt awful, more painful than anything she’d ever known, but wonderful at the same time. Drizella wanted to hold onto the feeling forever, but she could already feel it starting to leave her, to flow into the portal’s channels. Regina was wrong - she couldn’t have stopped even if she wanted to, not this late. She’d already made her choices.

“Drizella!” Regina shouted, and her name was the last think Drizella heard before she woke up as Ivy.

\- - -

“Oh, it’s you,” said Roni, that twisted up version of Regina the curse had left her with. So different in so many ways, but she was deeply familiar in her anger. “What do you want?”

“I see Jacinda has been gossiping behind my back,” Drizella said with exaggerated shock. “How surprising! I always thought she was a better person than that.”

“You can leave,” said Roni.

Drizella didn’t care for being told what to do at the best of times. She sat down on a stool and leaned in across the bar. “I don’t feel like leaving,” she said. “I came for a drink, and I didn’t walk ten blocks through this trash neighborhood to walk away empty handed.”

Truthfully, she wasn’t sure why she’d come. She hadn’t expected it to go _well_ , certainly, and that prediction was currently bearing out. She just hadn’t been able to stay away.

Roni leaned in too, until she was nearly nose to nose with her. “Let me rephrase that, because it wasn’t really a request,” she said. “It was a command. _Leave._ ”

“Make me.” Roni’s lip curled back in a sneer. Drizella didn’t really deserve any better, not when she was acting so childishly, but she couldn’t help herself. And part of her wanted to see if Roni really would manhandle her out the door.

“This is my bar,” said Regina. “You can leave on your own or I can throw you out.”

Oh, what had Jacinda told her? It must have been something bad for Roni to get so hostile with one of her best customers. Maybe she’d cried. She had those big Bambi eyes, it always made everyone want to take her side when she cried, no matter which world they were in. And she really did have some awful stories she could tell.

Drizella leaned in closer. Dangerously close, close enough that in a different time and place she would have been able to feel Regina’s heart inside her rib cage, feel it pulsing with anger.

She missed it so badly, and in that instant she just wanted Regina to remember. She wanted to have a real argument about their real pasts, not go back and forth about make believe. Instead she had to settle for the ammunition she had available.

“Oh, but is it going to be your bar for much longer, Regina?” she asked, the wrong name slipping out of her mouth before she could stop it. She didn’t let her slow it down. “After all, you owe so much money on it. Eventually someone’s bound to come around and collect.”

“How do you know-“ said Roni, startled, but her surprise quickly turned to righteous indignation. “Well it’s mine now,” she snarled. “So get out.”

Drizella didn’t want to leave. She wasn’t sure what she wanted these days, but it wasn’t to leave and wander back to her lonely little luxury apartment. She didn’t really want to be fighting, either, but there was a comfort in slipping into old patterns. An impulse seized her, and there was so little space between them that it took no effort for her to lean in and kiss Roni. No time at all for Roni to pull away before Drizella’s lips were pressed against hers.

Drizella waited for a moment, her heart beating wildly in her chest, the air too thick and heavy around her to breathe. She was waiting for something to happen, but nothing did.

“What the hell, Ivy?” Roni pulled back, startled, pure surprise on her face. No anger, no affection, no lust, just plain shock.

Nothing changed, and Drizella wasn’t sure why she’d expected it to. She heard Roni call her name, but the door shut behind her before she could hear anything else.

\- - -

“You’ve been awake this whole time.”

“Who let you in?” asked Drizella.

Drizella hadn’t been back to the bar since she’d kissed Roni, so apparently Roni had felt the need to come find her. Well, Regina rather, since she seemed to have broken the curse on her memory.

“You’ve been awake this whole time,” she said again, a barely constrained anger in her voice. “What the hell have you been doing, Drizella?”

Nothing much, if she were being honest. But honesty wasn’t her strong suit.

“That’s not my name,” she said, standing. “And if you keep talking crazy I’m going to call the police on you.”

Regina looked deeply unimpressed with the threat. “Oh, you’re going to call Weaver on me, are you? Well the joke’s on you, Drizella, because he’s awake too. And he’s not very happy with you or your mother.”

Drizella shrugged. “He’s not the only cop in town,” she said. She gave up on pretending to be asleep because it clearly wasn’t going to get her anywhere. “This isn’t Storybrooke. Most of the cops here are from this land. There’s no waking them up, and they’ll never believe you.”

Instead of leaving Regina walked right up to Drizella’s desk. “You were trying to wake me up, weren’t you? Why?”

Drizella had no interest in admitting to that. As far as she was concerned the kiss had never happened. It hadn’t made any difference, anyway. “I’m serious. I’ll have them drag you out of here in handcuffs.”

Regina stepped away then, but instead of leaving she just paced the reception area for a moment before walking back and leaning in over Drizella’s desk.

“I told you not to do it,” said Regina. “I told you it wouldn’t make you happy.”

Drizella rose to her feet, her face flush with anger. If Regina wasn’t going to leave she’d leave herself. “I’ll have you know that I’m _ecstatic_ ,” she snapped.

“Yes, I’m sure you’ve had a wonderful time playing receptionist to mommy dearest,” said Regina, rolling her eyes, and the condescension in her voice made Drizella’s blood boil. “I’m sure that’s why you spent so much time in my bar trying to get me to pay attention to you. You were just so _happy_.”

Drizella edged past her, shrugging off Regina’s hand when she tried to grab her arm. “Security?” she said, calling for the Tower’s private security. There was supposed to be an officer posted outside the reception area all times of day, but it sometimes seemed like the guys they hired were on break as often as they were at their post. “Security!”

“You don’t have to make a scene,” said Regina, breezing by her without so much as a glance back. “I’ll show myself out.”

Drizella stood there for a second, overwhelmed with feelings she didn’t want to name, and then went back to her desk. This hadn’t been what she’d planned. She’d played it out in her head so many times, before and after the curse - she’d have to wait a while and then she’d have her magic back, her sisters and mother would be gone, and she’d be triumphant. Regina would get her memories back just in time to see how much Drizella had accomplished, how much power she had.

So much for planning.

\- - -

She walked by the bar a few times. Not right by the door, she wasn’t in that much of a rush to get caught in an awkward situation, but through the general neighborhood. Close enough that she could see the sign from the crosswalks. But every time she got the urge to go closer she stopped and made herself go in the opposite direction.

She couldn’t figure out how things would go, or even how she wanted them to go. So she didn’t go in.

\- - -

Eventually there was a knock on her door. Drizella considered letting it go unanswered, but it wasn’t as if she could avoid everyone from her past life forever. And there was always the worry that Regina might just break the door down.

“I’ve seen you hanging around,” said Regina, walking in without being invited the second the door was open, and Drizella missed a time when she had wards that could have prevented that. “It’s a little pathetic, Ivy.”

“Is that why you came here? To insult me? If so you can go ahead and leave whenever you want.”

“I still want to know why you tried to wake me up,” said Regina, sitting on the edge of her couch.

There was more Roni in her than Drizella had expected now that she was awake. Tight jeans and leather boots. Maybe she just hadn’t had the opportunity to update her wardrobe.

“That’s a leap,” said Drizella, rolling her eyes. “I wasn’t trying to wake you up. I was just trying to get laid.”

Regina looked at her, eyes piercing straight through her, like she understood her better than Drizella understood herself. It was disconcerting. “I got bored with you playing hard to get, so I moved on,” she said, lying through her teeth. “I found a girlfriend with less baggage to deal with.”

“You did not,” said Regina.

Drizella clenched her fists. “How the hell would you know?”

“You really aren’t that good of a liar.”

“Oh yeah?” Drizella asked, leaning back into her couch cushions. “I was good enough to fool you back in the Enchanted Forest.”

“I wasn’t fooled,” said Regina, sounding sad. Drizella shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. She wanted Regina angry; she wanted her lashing out. Instead the weary resignation in her voice was like a weight across her shoulders. “I was hopeful. It’s not the same thing.”

“You can spin it however you want, I still won.”

“Sure you did,” said Regina, standing.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she asked, the pitying tone in Regina’s voice grating on her nerves.

“You know exactly what I mean, even if you don’t want to admit it,” said Regina. “I’ll be at the bar when you figure out what it is you want.”

\- - -

She went nice and early so that they’d be alone.

“I miss magic,” said Drizella as she took her seat at the bar. It was easier than admitting that she missed Regina.

“So do I,” said Regina. She reached underneath the bar and pulled out a familiar purple flower, setting it gently in Drizella’s hand. “Here,” she said. “I found a little to share.”

Drizella ran a thumb across the soft petals. “Where’d you get this from?”

“They call this the land without magic, but there’s magic everywhere,” said Regina. “It takes different forms, sometimes, but it always manages to seep through somewhere. Now concentrate and think of something you love. You never did get the hang of this before, did you?”

“I never got the point of it,” said Drizella, but she closed her eyes and concentrated anyway.

She thought about Regina, back in the old world, the feeling of her hand against her chest, of feeling so open and vulnerable and yet not being afraid, because she knew Regina, could feel her heart beating in time with hers, and knew Regina wouldn’t crush it.

The flower floated above her hand for a moment and she felt a strange surge of ecstasy, even at such a simple trick. It had been so long since she’d known any magic at all. But thinking of Regina reminded her of the kiss, of how nothing had happened, and with that thought the flower dropped like a weight back into her palm.

She sighed. “So much for that.”

“Here,” said Regina, sliding her hands under Drizella’s. “I’ll help.”

Her hands were warm and dry, and at her touch the flower floated upwards again, unsteadily hovering above her open palms. “What _is_ the point of this, anyway?” asked Drizella. “I used to be able to move a lot more than a flower with magic.”

“It’s a memory flower,” said Regina. “It’s a reminder, sort of. It can take your feelings and amplify them.”

“Okay, but what’s the point?”

“The point is that it feels nice,” said Regina, sighing. “Not everything is about power and control. Sometimes it’s nice to be reminded of what you have, of what you love.”

“I don’t love anything,” said Drizella. Not her mother, not her father, not her sisters. Not a single friend in this world or the old one.

“Yes you do,” said Regina. “You’ll be stronger if you’re honest with yourself.”

The sudden urge to tear the flower to shreds was hard to resist. But there was so little magic in this world that Drizella was loathe to crush it, even as bitterness overwhelmed her. “Do you want me to admit I was trying to wake you up?” she asked. “Because it didn’t work. So the least you could do is pretend it didn’t happen,” she snapped. She pulled her hands back, and the flower fell into Regina’s palms, still open underneath where hers had been.

“Of course it didn’t work,” said Regina, strangely kind, like she was letting Drizella down easy. Like there was a way to do that. “Roni barely knew you.” The flower floated, its petals opening as it rose up between them, looking almost like a lotus. “The kiss doesn’t work if people don’t remember, if they don’t believe in it. That’s what makes the curse so hard to break.”

“It worked for everybody else,” said Drizella, trying to figure out if Regina meant what she was saying or if she was just obscuring the truth.

“Not always,” she said. “Not at first.”

Drizella swallowed. “I don’t believe you.”

Regina raised her hand to grasp the flower and then set it back down on the counter. “Well,” said Regina, “if you don’t believe me, why don’t you try again?”

Drizella thought maybe Regina was joking, but she was leaning forward, arms resting on the counter as she looked at Drizella, her full attention on her. Drizella’s heart fluttered and she pushed forward, reaching for Regina’s mouth before she had a chance to second guess herself.

Warmth flooded through her as they kissed, rising into lust as Regina reached for her, fingers tangling in her hair.

“This doesn’t count,” said Drizella, slightly breathless as she pulled away, trying to collect herself. They were in a public area, after all. People would be coming in any minute. “The curse is already broken. Of course it’s just a kiss-“

Regina cut her off with another kiss, and all thoughts of practical matters abandoned her. “It’s fine if you don’t believe me,” said Regina, smiling. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to convince you.”

If she were honest, Drizella didn’t need convincing, not anymore. She had never been above lying, though, and just because she didn’t need it didn’t mean she didn’t want it.

“Do your best,” she said.

“I never do anything less,” said Regina, pressing a quick kiss to her forward as she pulled away. Drizella whined in protest, upset to be separated so soon, and Regina laughed at her, warm and charmed. “Just let me put up a sign letting people know the bar is closed for the night, okay?”

“Fine, I’ll allow it,” said Drizella, hopping of the bar stool to follow her. Her impatience was hard to hide, so she didn’t bother trying. “But only because that means you’ve got all night to spend with me.”


End file.
